


Patience

by inkandpaperhowl



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Coffeeshop AU, College AU, F/F, Modern AU, tremendous amounts of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkandpaperhowl/pseuds/inkandpaperhowl
Summary: Nyeni pines for the cute girl in the coffeeshop and tries and fails to focus on her anatomy homework, unaware that the cute girl in the coffeeshop is pining for her, while Dorian conspires to get his two friends together.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kogiopsis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kogiopsis/gifts).



> Happy birthday, love. <3

Nyeni sort of hated med school.

Okay, that wasn’t actually true. She hated the homework, or rather the way the homework had literally taken over her life, leaving her with exactly zero free time, but she _liked_ her classes. She liked her lab, and she liked the volunteer hours she was putting in at the clinic, and all her patients at the clinic. She liked most of her classmates and almost all of her professors.

She really did hate the homework, though. Especially on nights that she worked–her actual job, not her clinic job, because her clinic job payed her in college credit. Which was a whole different upsetting kettle of fish for her to get annoyed about on another day. Currently, she was trying very hard to study the twenty-three muscles in the arm while also making coffee. The arm muscles were in Latin, and the coffee was in barista, and the code switching was killing her. She wasn’t entirely sure she hadn’t just called out a grande brachioradialis latte, and the confused looks on both her coworkers’ and customers’ faces confirmed it. She sighed, looked at the cup, and called out the correct order, handing the drink to the slight, dark-haired elf who she tried very hard not to make eye-contact with. Of course it was _her_. 

The elf was a regular customer, a soft-spoken bright spot in almost all of Nyeni’s weekdays. The name she gave for every order was Kepi, and Nyeni had to stop herself from doodling the name in the margins of her notebooks. That would have been creepy and awkward, considering she’d had maybe two conversations with Kepi that didn’t involve caffeine, syrups, and a cash register. She’d forced herself not to acknowledge the fact that she knew Kepi’s rotating drink orders better than she did her anatomy homework, or the fact that she abhorred working weekends because she knew Kepi wouldn’t be there. She only came in on weekdays, usually with textbooks, and sat in a corner to quietly sip her drink and read for an hour before close every day.

Nyeni had never been brave enough to speak to her after their initial customer-barista interaction, much to her coworkers’ amusement and her deep embarrassment. Sera went so far as to force a tray of free samples on her and shove her out from behind the counter toward Kepi’s usual corner, but Nyeni managed to run out of samples before reaching the other elf, and returned to the back room, red in the face, and cursing Sera as her friend laughed uproariously.

“I don’t see what’s the big deal,” Sera teased, flicking her with soapy dishwater as she rinsed the non-dishwasher-safe trays. “Just _talk_ to her, yeah? What could possibly go wrong?”

Nyeni had not deigned to respond, burying her nose in her anatomy book as she punched out for her dinner. Sera was friendly, boisterous, and outgoing: all of the things Nyeni was not. She could bounce up to a complete stranger and chatter their ear off about bees for ten minutes and be their best friend in fifteen. She’d done it to Neyni on her first day at work, and Nyeni was eternally grateful to have made such a good friend. But she had never found it easy to talk to strangers, something Sera couldn’t fathom. She didn’t understand that all Nyeni could think of when talking to people was, in fact, everything that could possibly go wrong.

Talking to Kepi was particularly daunting, since everything about the elf made Nyeni acutely aware of _how stupidly attractive_ she was. It was unfair: her raven-black hair, usually curling out of its heavy bun; her electric _vallaslin_ standing out against her perfect dark skin, matching her soft blue eyes; her long fingers careful as she wrapped them around her cup; her graceful, smooth walk from the counter to her chair in the corner. Nyeni was always distracted by Kepi’s presence, could never keep her eyes from flicking to the corner repeatedly over the course of the hour, just to assure herself that Kepi was real and not some elven goddess dragged out of her personal daydreams. Sera laughed at her every time she swooned, but even Sera had to admit that Kepi was gorgeous.

Nyeni felt woefully inadequate, and tugged her stupid barista hat lower over her face, and promised herself that she would focus on learning anatomy and making coffee and nothing else. These promises generally lasted about five minutes.

She hated her homework, mostly, because every minute she had to look down at the page was a minute she was not looking at Kepi’s unfair beauty and working up the courage to speak real actual sentences to her. It was a wonder to her that she wasn’t failing all her classes, since she spent much more time thinking about how Kepi’s fingers would feel running though her hair, how soft Kepi’s lips would be if they kissed, how much she’d love to just curl up against her and cuddle on cold, rainy afternoons. She had to shake herself free of thoughts of taking Kepi on museum dates, and talking to her long into the night, and holding her hand. She had to remind herself that all of this was stupid, improbable, and almost assuredly creepy until she _talked_ to her.

It finally happened one day, unexpectedly, and Nyeni almost died of embarrassment on the spot.

Due to the painful shyness that Sera, despite her best efforts, had not cured her of, Nyeni had a grand total of six friends on campus–four if you didn’t count Tieran, her best friend from childhood, and Tavia, his sister and her ex-girlfriend, since the three of them had grown up together and hadn’t really been _friends_ in years so much as a co-dependent trio of moral support bound together by sarcasm, Disney movie marathons, and clan ties. Regardless, the number was pathetically small, and it stood to reason that, statistically, her pool of acquaintances was far, far too small to overlap with Kepi’s, even if Kepi was the sort of girl who was popular enough to know “everyone on campus”–a hypothesis Sera presented and which Nyeni doubted, shored up with her daily hour in the coffeeshop alone as evidence.

Statistics, Nyeni learned one crisp Thursday afternoon in fall, were bullshit. 

The coffeeshop was unusually empty, and Nyeni was alone–Cole was probably rearranging the fridge again in the back, but she was the only person on the floor. The bell at the door tinkled far too cheerfully for Nyeni’s exam-stress-induced foul mood, and she scowled down at her smudged, hurried notes one last time before slamming her book closed over them and plastering her best customer service smile on her face to look up at whoever had come to interrupt her studying. The smile quickly turned into a real one as she recognized Dorian, muffled in his overlarge parka, with its fuzzy hood pulled up over his perfectly gelled hair, his nose buried stubbornly in the Slytherin scarf she had bought him for Christmas two years ago, that he insisted was ridiculous since he was _obviously_ a Ravenclaw. His eyes lit up when he spotted her, and he carefully emerged from his cocoon of protection against the cold.

“Nyeni, delight of my life, please, for the love of all that is holy in the Maker’s sight, give me something warm to thaw my frigid bones!” 

She raised an eyebrow at him and reached for a cup, not bothering to ask him what specifically he wanted. Dorian ordered the same coffee every time: salted caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso.

“You know it’s not that cold out, right?” she said, steaming his milk. “I walked here today because it was so nice out.”

He made a face at her. “And I won’t be surprised if you catch pneumonia and die.”

“Meanwhile, _you_ will die of heatstroke.”

He sniffed and loosened his scarf a little more, unzipping his coat. “Give me my coffee, you warmblooded wretch, and I shall forgive you for your terrible taste in weather.” She laughed and handed him his change, which he pocketed, and his cup, which he wrapped his gloved hands around with a look of bliss on his face. “So warm,” he whispered gleefully. “I live again.” He shivered as the door opened again, letting in a cool trickle of autumn breeze that Nyeni welcomed, breathing deeply the brief temptation of the outdoors before the door swung shut again. She froze when she saw who had entered.

“Ah, Dorian,” Kepi said, voice cheerful as her eyes found Nyeni’s friend. “Are you ready to go?”

He made a face. “No,” he said, pouting. “I just got coffee. So you should get some, too, and we can enjoy our delightful smidgen of warmth before you drag me off into the freezing wilds.”

Her eyes glittered with mischief as she stepped closer to the counter. “And this is in no way a stalling tactic, meant to distract me from our plans, and keep us out of the mountains for another hour?”

“You offend me, o pearl of my heart,” he said dramatically, throwing himself into a vacant chair near the counter. “How could you think me so vilely deceitful?”

“Because I know you,” Kepi said, flicking the top of his hair with the end of her scarf as she passed. He spluttered, hand jumping to check she hadn’t ruined his locks, and Nyeni hid a laugh behind the espresso machine.

“You two know each other?” Kepi asked, leaning on the counter and spotting Nyeni’s amusement. Nyeni schooled her expression back into something suitable for customers, and nodded. She swallowed carefully, reminding herself to act naturally.

“From our gen-ed days,” she said, and though her voice came out quieter than she meant it to, it definitely was steadier than she thought it would be. “I made sure he didn’t sleep through Trigonometry, and he hoisted me up to a passable B+ in ‘History of the Free Marches, A Detailed Look at the Time of Empire in the South of Thedas.’”

“Sounds like his kind of dry, dusty refuse,” Kepi said, grinning. Dorian made a noise of outrage from behind her, but with his nose in his coffee, he couldn’t retaliate.

“How…um, I mean, how do you know him?” Nyeni asked, clearing her throat so her voice would normalize. She was simply glad she hadn’t stuttered at all yet.

“Oh, we’re in the same major,” Kepi said, shrugging. “Politics.”

“Oh,” Nyeni said, head cocked to one side. She leaned around Kepi to raise an eyebrow at Dorian. “I thought you were majoring in the Classics? Are you telling me I’ve been quizzing you on Ancient Tevene vocabulary and poetic structures for funsies?”

Kepi turned a snort of laughter into a polite cough as Dorian leaned his chair back on two legs, too casually. “I’m double majoring,” he explained.

“So you’re taking all those _history_ classes for fun?” Kepi clarified.

“Triple majoring,” Dorian muttered into his coffee, taking a long sip and turning away from the two elves at the counter as they raised their eyebrows at him in simultaneous disbelief.

“Do you _sleep?”_ Nyeni asked, outraged.

“Do you have any fun?” Kepi’s question followed, amused and horrified at the same time. “Suddenly I’m very glad I’m dragging you to the mountains for the weekend. You need time off.” 

“I take time off,” Dorian protested. “I’m having time off right now, right this second, look at me, I am _off_.”

“You’re running Tevene poetry in your head, aren’t you?” Nyeni asked. He scowled at her and pointedly turned to look out the window. Kepi broke into laughter, and Nyeni couldn’t help smiling at her amusement. It animated her already glowing features, and she blinked as she caught herself staring at the way the sunlight caught in Kepi’s hair.

Admittedly, she was vaguely amazed she’d made it this far into a conversation with Kepi. Dorian’s presence was helping, certainly, and their mutual acquaintance gave her a starting point to talk about, which was helpful. She rather thought Sera might be proud of her.

The thought of Sera took her back to work and she blinked again. “Oh gods,” she said suddenly, realizing that Kepi had been standing at the counter for five minutes and she had yet to do her actual job. “I’m so sorry. What can I get you to drink?” 

Kepi turned to her, the end of her laughter still trapped in the corner of her eyes so they sparkled like sunlight on the sea. Nyeni’s breath caught in her throat, and she squeaked involuntarily. 

“Hm?” Kepi blinked at her, then up at the menu boards. “Oh!” she said, and her face flushed suddenly as if she were the one who was embarrassed. “Right! Um. Is it late enough in the season for pumpkin spice?”

Nyeni, back on familiar ground, nodded, already picking up a cup. “As of last week,” she said, smiling. “Latte?”

“Yes please,” Kepi said, turning back to Dorian as Nyeni ducked behind the machines to mix up her drink. She tried very hard not to eavesdrop, but since they were the only people in the shop, it was hard not to. “You know you don’t have to come with me if you really, really don’t want to, right?” Kepi was saying, but Dorian was already shaking his head.

“I told you I would come. You promised there would not be snakes or snow. We have a deal. I’m not going to back out on you at the last second.”

“I just know how much you hate the outdoors,” Kepi said dryly.

“If _you_ don’t want me to come–”

“That’s _not_ what I meant.”

“Because it sounds to me like you’re trying to give me a convenient, last chance way out.”

“I’m trying to be nice, Dorian,” Kepi said, sighing. “I thought you could use some fresh air, but I know that camping isn’t really your style. I don’t want you to feel…I don’t know, _obligated_.”

“I have long since resigned myself to the fact that having a Dalish elf–particularly a Dalish elf who works as a field guide–for a friend means that I will, on occasion, have to go outdoors,” Dorian said, tone long-suffering, but amused. “We can’t always do the things I like doing. Sometimes, we must do things you enjoy, too. That’s how friendship works, Lavellan.”

“Fine, _Pavus_ ,” Kepi said, as Nyeni came around the counter to place her drink on the table as unobtrusively as possible. Kepi grinned up at her before she could slink back behind the counter, though. “Nyeni, you’re Dalish, right?” she asked, gesturing to her vallaslin.

Nyeni jumped, surprised not only that Kepi knew her name, but that she was…well, speaking to her. That her awkward, obvious nerves and longing stares had either not been noticed or were currently being ignored.

“Um, yes?” she said, and she had to force herself not to run her fingers over the edge of her apron nervously.

Kepi smiled, and there was something nervous in her face, too, that Nyeni was surprised to see. The other elf took a sip of her latte and cleared her throat before continuing. “I just… well, I was wondering how you felt…about camping.”

Nyeni stopped breathing for a full thirty seconds, knowing her stupid crush was making her read too much into this. This was not Kepi asking her on a date; that didn’t happen to people, especially not when the only conversation they’d shared in the past was drink orders and the occasional inquiry of how the studying was going. She felt Dorian’s eyes on her, and flicked her gaze to him helplessly, silently begging for his aid. The corners of his lips twitched up in half a merciless smile, and he abruptly stood up from the table.

“I find myself in need of the gentlemen's room. I’ll be back in a minute,” he announced unnecessarily. He disappeared off toward the bathroom, leaving both the elves to stare after him with desperate, silent looks of betrayal.

Nyeni glanced back at Kepi nervously, flashing part of an apologetic smile at her before focusing her gaze on the toes of her scuffed boots. She took a deep breath.

“Um, I…about camping, I mean, I do…like it. I like camping.”

“Oh!” Kepi said, and though Nyeni didn’t see it, a spasm of relief crossed her face. “Good. I mean…” It was her turn to take a deep breath. “Well, this is awfully short notice, I suppose, and we don’t know each other very well, and this is probably dumb, but if you wanted to…to come with… We’re just going up into the mountains for the long weekend, and we have room for one more person in the tent. Not that we’d be sleeping–! I just meant, it’s a three-man tent. Or…three-person tent, anyway.”

Nyeni’s heart skipped a beat. She forced her hands to stop carding the edge of her apron, and looked up to meet Kepi’s gaze, smiling. This didn’t mean anything–this was Kepi being polite, inviting Dorian’s friend along. As a friend. As an acquaintance.

It didn’t matter anyway, she thought, her face falling. “I…can’t,” she said quietly. Kepi’s face fell, too.

“Oh, right, of course. I’m sorry.”

“No!” Nyeni protested, putting a hand out to stall Kepi’s disappointment. “It’s not that at all! It’s just… I have an exam tomorrow, and a full day volunteering at the clinic on Saturday, so… I would love to come, I just…can’t,” she finished lamely. Kepi tilted her head to one side in curiosity.

“The clinic?” she asked.

“Um, yeah,” Nyeni said, shifting her weight. “I work at the Healing Hands Clinic three days a week to get…experience? It’s sort of an independent study, I guess? I don’t know. I get college credit for it, but honestly, I’d do it anyway.”

“Are you a med student then?” Kepi asked, respect in her voice. Nyeni nodded. “I could never have the patience.”

“Oh, they come to you,” Nyeni said brightly, forgetting for a second that she wasn’t talking to Anders and that stupid puns were probably not the best way to win favor with your crush. She winced as Kepi stared at her for a moment, but her face broke into a grin as she realized the pun, and she burst out laughing.

“That was _terrible_ ,” she said, still laughing. Nyeni smiled, half in amusement, half in relief.

“Blame Anders,” she said ruefully. “He’s a few years further along the med track than I am, and I think all the chemicals in the hospital have gone to his head. He’s the worst at puns, and I think he’s rubbing off on me.”

“Then perhaps you need some time off, too,” Kepi said, smiling. “Obviously, I knew this weekend was short notice, but pick any time, honestly. I generally go up to the mountains–”

“–every weekend,” Dorian interjected, returning from his abandonment of them. “You do every weekend. Don’t deny it.”

Kepi made a face, but said nothing, choosing to sip her latte instead. Dorian laughed.

“I’m serious, though,” she said finally, turning back to Nyeni. “Any time you are missing the wilds, let me know. I work part-time at the national park, so I know all the best spots, and I’d l–” she paused suddenly, blushing, as if she’d been about to say something she meant to keep to herself. “I’d be happy to show you,” she finished.

Nyeni’s heart leapt to her throat again, and she swallowed her fluttering feelings, pressing them back down where they belonged. “I’d love to,” she croaked. She coughed and managed a smile. “Truly. I should have some time off after this exam, so…maybe next weekend?”

Kepi’s smile was like a sunrise, all excitement and relief and joy. “Sure!” she said, kicking Dorian under the table as he _oooooh’_ d. “That would be wonderful. I look forward to it.” She stood suddenly, still grinning, but blushing, too. Nyeni was sure her own face was on fire.

“Me too,” she squeaked out, and Kepi’s grin grew a fraction wider.

“Well, that’s settled then,” Dorian said, clapping his hands together dramatically. “Finally, my silly little chicks have had a full conversation, and set up a disgustingly appropriate date, and honestly, I couldn’t be prouder of either of you.” He descended on Nyeni first, kissing both her cheeks as if he were on some melodramatic Orlesian soap opera, then turned and did the same to Kepi. “My two favorite children, all grown up and going to prom, oh happy day!”

Nyeni, blushing furiously, punched him in the arm at the same second Kepi kicked him in the shins again. He merely burst into laughter, wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“We should get going,” Kepi said, clearly embarrassed, and trying to hustle Dorian out the door before he ruined the moment further. “It was…um, lovely to see you, Nyeni, and I guess…um, have a good weekend? Good luck on your test? I…um…”

“Thank you,” Nyeni said, too quietly, and was forced to repeat herself, louder, after clearing her throat again. “Have fun on your trip!”

“We will!” Kepi said at the same time Dorian said, “We won’t.”

Kepi glared at him. “What?” he said. “You’ll be pining, and I’ll be cold. We’ll both be miserable, but the scenery will be lovely.”

Kepi, blushing again, shoved him toward the door. “I could have asked Cassandra to come instead, you know,” she said.

“That wouldn’t be _nearly_ as much fun,” Dorian said. He waggled his fingers over his shoulder at Nyeni in farewell, and swept his scarf around his neck so hard the end whacked Kepi in the back of her bun. “Ta ta, my flower,” he said, “have fun healing the sick and all that while we freeze to death.”

“Dareth shiral,” Nyeni called after them as the door swung closed. She saw Kepi pause at the elven words and smile, and she waved through the window in acknowledgement or farewell. Nyeni waved back. Dorian made an over-exaggerated kissy face and Kepi shoved him down the street, while Nyeni quietly prayed to any gods listening that she could be swallowed up by the floor.

“Did I miss something?” Cole asked, coming out of the back room, shoving the door open with his butt as his hands were full of several boxes of pastries. Nyeni started, and scooted back around the counter to help him unload.

“No, not at all,” she said, aware that she was still blushing. Cole merely peered at her in that certain way he had, blinking slowly. It felt like he was looking through her soul. He grinned suddenly.

“You’re really happy,” he said. “Something impossibly good just happened, and I missed it.”

“It’s okay,” Nyeni said, and she couldn’t help grinning herself. “If we’re lucky, it’ll happen again, and maybe you’ll be around for the next time.”

.


End file.
